Tuesday, February 08, 2005


In the world of people who are hardcore, I don't exist. I am the complete opposite of badass-me and my friend Fats who brought Brie to a Super Bowl party. Brie! Seriously, Fats, they should revoke your penis.

Anyway, there's a caste system in the World of Hardcore. John, Scott and Erik are total serfs. Peons. They work for my sister who is semi-badass. And up and up you go, getting more and more hardcore. Jennifer Garner. John's dad. Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Dan Graves (unintentionally killed a man and laughed when he told the story). Jack Bauer. Until you get to the King of Hardcore.


P.S. Hopefully I end up near the top of the list of search results for pervs looking for hardcore you-know-what. Hardcore. Hardcore. Hardcore.


Erik with a K said...

If being hardcore means I got to lose my jimmies, then I'm total softcore. Legs-in-the-air-and-whimpering softcore in fact.

Did you ever see School of Rock? There's this great scene where Jack Black is doing a song with the schoolkids and he has these two cute little girls singing with him, and the lyrics are like "You know you're not hardcore (you know you're not hardcore) Unless you LIVE hardcore (unless you live hardcore)"...i nearly cut off my own testicles it was so damn funny.

And John's dad is definitely hardcore. My dad was a bit too - he never took any novocaine or pain meds when he went to the dentist. He'd be in there getting his teeth completely drilled out, and he'd come out like it was nothing. He even made me get a filling that way once.

That too, is hardcore.

Johnny Virgil said...

Hey, a bet is a bet, and those dudes are serious about their rugby. And I must hear the Dan Graves story.

Scott said...

Not to belabor the point - but I watched a guy jump out of a moving car and then hop off a 10 story brisge. So your ball cutter dude may have some competition.